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THOUGHTS OF A JOB-SEEKING RAMBLER

O my mirror self what to do? O my dark shadow what to do? Days in this city With me out in search of work Nights in this city seeking Jobs that were published in ads O my mirror self what to do? O my sad heart what to do? No, this is not my own city No, this is not even my town Yet I keep haunting the streets Yet I keep counting heartbeats O my woe, tell me what to do? O my despair what should I do? Neon lights all around my being As the sun goes down slowly dying Strange sounds encircle all my being As the day grows dark and frightening O my sinking hope what to do? O my struggling, what to do? Spread overhead is a network of stars Like a pilgrim's pageant, like a lover's dream But who will fathom the apathy that screams Inside my tired body like a banshee unseen? O my reflection what to do? O my taxed nerves what to do? Suddenly the gaze sees a falling star Like fireworks on display near and afar And a sneaking whisperer hisses and asks Whose ill-fated days will this sign mar? O my grief tell me what to do? O my unfed stomach now what to do? The night breeze jeers urging me to the bar Saying if that is not possible then not very far Is a place where some lonely damsels wait For young men who can't quieten their hearts. O my mocking 'me', what to do? O my futility, what to do? At another road-bend are the young and carefree Men and women rejoicing in glee And also some insults shouted loud and clear, Some obscene display of modern-day cheer... O my image what to do? O my shadow what to do? I do not stop to pause on my way Nor is it in my nature to turn away And it doesn't look any soul is there Who, with me, my feelings will share... O my poverty, what to do? O my brevity, what to do? Even now some damsels are waiting for me Even now some bored women are longing for me But binding on me are my vows and my pledge And defiantly staring is my conscience at me... O my loneliness, what to do? O my beloved, what to do? Then a thought tells me to break all the vows And to give up hopes of the one that I love And a frenzy grips me to cut life's frail chord And break my promises like a professional fraud... O my apathy, what to do? O flickering candle, what to do? A flame surges within my heart and becomes a blaze I am close to spilling over my angst in my maze The wounds eating me deep inside also chase And want to devour my honourable ways... O you poet, tell me what to do? O you deep one, tell me what to do? Slowly the dim light of a villa reveals a form And I see a veiled woman walking out, forlorn Disguised like a cleric, she is hiding her all The youth of a widow, in a phantom-like shawl O my image what to do? O my shadow what to do? In this state I also see some men Who like Nero and Pharaoh scoff in vein They are the ones who occupy high posts And keep the efforts of those like me in vain... O my anger, tell me what to do? O my frustration, tell me what to do? This prolonged misery of mine, this deathly way of life Often hearkens me to get out and start civil strife Against those in power doing nothing for us guys, Except wasting our days and nights with their lies... O my image what to do? O my shadow what to do? Looking up I feel like tearing the sky And stuffing into a black hole the stars shining high My search unending for some honest work to do Is driving me to recklessness, even then I sigh O my image what to do? O my shadow what to do? I may become a spokesman of the jobless and let loose hell Just like mighty Samson, like brave William Tell Maybe then the things will improve -- I can't tell But once I become ruthless the high-ups will yell... O my image what to do? O my shadow what to do? There is no response to the thoughts that I have There is nobody to be seen around, like me, aware Of societal hollowness and the hungry ones' glare What must I do now, be here or nowhere? O my true self, what to do? O my soul's voice, what to do? ********* There's a robber on the throne of the citadels of power Who is describing himself a leader of the poor If nothing else, then my failure to find work Will compel me to destroy all that he holds dear. I am cornered and there's nothing else I can do Except hit back at will...that's the best I can do.

I must get up and come outAgainst injustice, oppression and routThe despots killing us, day in, day out.

Author's Notes/Comments:

Inspired after listening to a Urdu poet's tale of woe which he narrated while running about here and there, hunting for a job. Posted on March 18, 2010 and modified on an August evening of the same year.